Chapter Text
Hyunjin was already naked, legs spread as he sat on the kitchen table. His hair was loose, falling along either side of his face, almost framing it and somehow making him look even more beautiful. His thighs were already wet, a small puddle of slick gathering on the tabletop right beneath him. Chan hated seeing him look so vulnerable, panting softly, his face flushed from yet another wave of heat. Even if he looked beautiful like this, he seemed far too fragile.
And his omega was anything but weak. A man like Hyunjin could never be weak, could never be broken. All it took was one look, one gesture, one word, and Chan would give him everything he had and more.
Chan was already shirtless, but he unbuttoned his jeans as well and tugged them down along with his boxers, just enough to free his already hard cock. He took a few steps toward him while Hyunjin watched him with that gaze of his. That unmistakably Hyunjin look — sharp, narrow, predatory. He looked like an animal ready to hunt, only to find himself playing the part of the prey instead. Well, he was forced to be. At least in this case.
Chan stepped closer until he was right against the table. He caught Hyunjin by the hair and pulled him toward himself, stealing a kiss from him while his other hand closed around his hip, dragging him closer.
He felt Hyunjin struggling against his hold even though they both knew he wanted it too. He always did that. He liked making things difficult. He liked turning everything into a battle, even when they fucked. And for a man that beautiful, fuck, Chan would've fought any battle he asked him to. Again and again.
"The fuck are you waiting for?" Hyunjin demanded irritably, his voice cracking under another wave of heat. "Do you need a fucking written invitation or what?"
His body was burning worse than ever. He needed an alpha. His alpha — Chan. Even though Hyunjin had always refused to let himself be marked or knotted. He kept saying he didn’t know whether they could last forever, that the mark would be permanent, that there would be no way to break the bond once it existed, and he was right. Every word of it was true, and they both knew it. Could he really call himself Hyunjin’s alpha simply because every now and then he was the one who satisfied him? Without a mark, without a bond, what exactly was left of them?
He pushed those thoughts aside, but only because Hyunjin needed him. It was an ancient, visceral need. Impossible to restrain, or even interrupt once it had begun. The same thing happened every cycle, and by now they were both used to it. But Hyunjin’s anger never seemed to disappear. It never stopped; it only grew, swelling into something enormous inside him.
He hated being an omega. Hated being subjected to this. He carried a fury inside himself that was nearly impossible to contain, and Hyunjin never tried to contain it at all — no, he took it out on Chan every time they fucked. He kicked, bit, scratched. Sometimes he tried to slap him or throw a punch, perhaps because he knew he could hardly put a dent in him anyway. Chan let him. He let Hyunjin rage against him as much as he needed. But it never seemed to be enough.
Hyunjin had tried several kinds of suppressants before, but every single time he had ended up suffering from at least half the listed side effects. Seeing him suffer for something he hadn't chosen to be, something he couldn't change and couldn't even fight, had been terrible. Sometimes Chan wished he could help him — in ways that went far beyond just his body — but Hyunjin wouldn't let him.
"Do you want to fuck me or not, hyung?" Hyunjin asked through clenched teeth, his gaze burning now, his entire body boiling beneath his skin.
He said the words slowly, deliberately shaping each one with his mouth, those pretty, full lips that were always so difficult to get close enough to kiss.
Hyunjin didn’t like kisses. Too intimate, he always told him. He was right. Every time they kissed, it felt as though the whole world might explode, along with both of their bodies. Maybe that was why they did it so rarely. Everything else was simpler, more animalistic, easier to put into a neat little box.
"If you let me kiss you, maybe I’ll fuck you," Chan replied seriously.
Hyunjin started punching him in the chest, again and again, until Chan stopped him. Both of Chan’s hands closed firmly around Hyunjin’s wrists. He held him there, cutting off any movement he might've made — or wanted to make.
The moment Chan released one of his wrists, Hyunjin slapped him across the face. The slap echoed through the kitchen, making Chan's head turn. Chan looked back at him slowly, his jaw tightened. Hyunjin only smiled.
"Take your fucking kiss and fuck me, then," Hyunjin hissed, struggling uselessly against that merciless grip.
Chan leaned toward him and kissed him deeply. A meeting of lips, of tongues, but of souls too. Sometimes he thought he had loved Hyunjin from the very first moment they met; other times, he thought he had simply learned how to love him. He didn’t know whether they were fated mates, whether it was compatibility or something else entirely, but he knew he couldn’t stay away from him — not in any way that mattered — unless he wanted something inside him to die.
He released him and eased him back onto the table, bending over him until he could bury his face between his thighs.
Chan slid both hands between Hyunjin’s thighs and used his fingers to spread his cunt open, holding him there beneath his gaze. For a few seconds, he didn’t touch him in any other way. He only leaned closer, letting his warm breath ghost over the wet, swollen flesh while he watched it clench and flutter helplessly around nothing, another wave of heat passing through Hyunjin’s body.
There was something almost obscene about simply watching him like that: the slick was gathering faster than Chan could've wiped it away, his body opening and contracting on instinct as though it already knew exactly what it wanted.
He licked away every trace of slick he could reach, pressing his mouth against Hyunjin’s cunt to coax out more. He felt Hyunjin shudder, arch against him, writhe hard enough to make the table move beneath them, coming against his face again and again, but Chan kept lapping up everything his body gave him.
Only after that first wave of heat had passed, and Hyunjin seemed calmer, did Chan line himself up with him and push inside. By then, Hyunjin had sat up again, perched on the edge of the table, and clung to him with his nails, burying his face in the crook of Chan’s neck and breathing in the scent of wild pine, earth, and musk.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, smelled like the ocean floor itself — like waves and sea foam, storm-dark skies and salt water, like everything powerful and unstoppable in its own force. A true force of nature.
Chan closed his eyes and let himself become intoxicated by that fragrance, the same one that haunted the house they shared even though Hyunjin came and went whenever he pleased. It felt like sinking into the abyss, all the way down to the ocean floor where everything was dark and there was no air left to breathe — and yet he loved remaining there, suspended in the depths.
Hyunjin clung to him fiercely, arms locked around his shoulders, and Chan lifted him straight off the table without breaking their rhythm.
His hands slid beneath Hyunjin’s ass to lift him properly before Chan carried him the few steps to the nearest wall and pressed him against it. Once the wall was supporting some of Hyunjin’s weight, Chan kept one hand beneath him while the other moved to his hip. Then he fucked him there, harder and relentless, each thrust quick and deep enough to drive Hyunjin back against the wall with a dull thud. Hyunjin tightened around him every time, slick making every movement wet and effortless, his breath breaking apart against Chan’s neck while his nails dug into his shoulders.
Hyunjin seized his wrist and forced Chan’s hand around his throat. "If you’re going to fuck me like that, at least commit to it."
And Chan did it, adding pressure. He tightened his grip on Hyunjin's throat, taking his breath away just enough.
Chan kissed him again, swallowing every sound that escaped him, and somewhere beneath the heat and the frantic movement, he felt the first, obvious pressure gathering at the base of his cock. His knot was beginning to swell. He knew what that meant. The second he felt himself getting too close, he would have to pull out.
Hyunjin seemed to realize it, too. His grip tightened suddenly, almost painfully, and when Chan started to slow down, Hyunjin lifted his head from his shoulder and looked at him with pupils blown wide, his face flushed and damp with sweat. "Don’t you fucking dare."
His voice came out rough, nearly desperate despite the command threaded through it. He caught Chan by the jaw and forced him to look at him. "Knot me."
For a few moments, Chan just stared at him. Hyunjin had never asked. Why now? Chan asked himself.
"Bedroom," Chan managed, already breathless.
He carried him there without pulling away, Hyunjin wrapped tightly around him while Chan crossed the house. By the time he lowered him onto the mattress, Hyunjin was trembling beneath him, slick already staining the sheets. Chan settled between his thighs and pushed back into him completely, deeper this time, until Hyunjin’s body opened around him and the growing swell of his knot pressed insistently against his entrance.
Hyunjin dragged him down by the back of his neck. "I said knot me."
Chan thrust into him once, twice, harder on the third, and felt Hyunjin stretch around the swelling base of his cock until finally the knot slipped inside and caught there. Hyunjin gasped sharply against his mouth, his entire body going tense before melting beneath him, legs tightening around Chan’s waist as the pressure locked them together.
Chan couldn’t have pulled away now even if he had wanted to.
The sensation broke whatever restraint he had left. He buried himself as deeply as their bodies would allow and came inside him, pulse after pulse spilling into Hyunjin while the knot continued to swell, keeping everything trapped between them. Hyunjin shuddered beneath him, breath hot against his lips, still holding him. As if there were nowhere else in the world Chan could possibly belong.